


The Doctor's In

by Coffeebles



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Fluff, Funny, Gen, Markiplier egos - Freeform, Mild Gore, edward has to take care of everyone and he's sick of their shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-03 18:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14001789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeebles/pseuds/Coffeebles
Summary: Dr. Edward Iplier thought he had seen it all. That is, until he moved into Markiplier Manor.





	1. Blood and Glitter

**Author's Note:**

> this is going to be multiple chapters about dr. iplier taking care of the other egos' bizarre injuries so uhhh stay tuned for more bullshit ig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward thought today was going to be a good day, until Wilford happened.

Dr. Edward Iplier thought he could take on anything. Sure, nobody is perfect, but he had saved his fair share of lives over the years. He thought he had seen the worst of it. Hell, he had even performed surgery on an alien before. He was convinced that he had been through it all.

That is, until he moved into Markiplier Manor.

His office had been contained to one room. It all of the basic necessities of a doctor’s office crammed into one space--a stretcher, a surgery table in the small square space behind a white curtain, a padded table for checkups, a desk, and everything else stuffed into small nooks and crannies. There were two waiting chairs in the office itself, but two more in the hallway just in case. It was nothing compared to the hospital he previously worked at, but all he could do was huff a sigh, adjust his white jacket, and accept it with a nod. It was better than nothing, right?

It was a Friday morning when he got his first patient. Warm, golden sunlight leaked through the single window in the office. It illuminated the pale blue walls, giving the room a tender glow. Normally, Edward would flicker on the bright lights on the ceiling, but they tended to give him a headache. The sunlight was a better light source, in his opinion; it filled the room with calm atmosphere he rarely got to experience. A soft smile was present on his lips as he sorted through papers.

 _Today is going to be a good day,_ he thought.

But then Wilford came in.

There was no knock at the door. Instead, Wilford swung it open with great force, causing it to slam against the wall. Edward heard the plaster break--great. Another hole he would have to fix later. He made sure the papers were in a neat pile before rising to his feet, his smile already spoiled.

“You could have at least--” The words got caught in the back of Edward’s throat when he saw the state Wilford was in.

Blood stained Wilford’s clothes from head-to-toe. He did not seem phased by this. If anything, the grin on his face said he was happy about it. There was a dagger handle sticking out of his thigh, and--was that pink glitter?

Eyes wide, Edward led Wilford to the padded table and began examining him for injuries. Despite the amount of blood, there was hardly a scratch on him besides the dagger.

“Don’t worry, most of this is from the other guy,” Wilford said with a wink.

The color drained from Edward’s face. He cleared his throat, and grabbed a clipboard with an incident report form already attached. “May I ask what happened, erm--”

“Wilford Warfstache,” Wilford said with a bright smile. “That’s my full name. Call me Wil, though.”

“Right, Wil, may I ask how you got a dagger in your thigh?”

“Oh, of course!” Wilford’s face lit up. “I was recording an interview with this real shabby guy from England or whatever, right? He wasn’t cooperating, I was upset, he was upset, so I decided that it wouldn’t make a good episode and that I should just shoot him instead.”

Edward nodded, his expression stoic. On the inside, though, he was screaming bloody murder.

“Well, then he decided to try to grab the dagger I keep strapped to my thigh, and he stabbed me! Why would he do that?” As Wilford talked, he flailed his hands about, as if he was telling a great tale.

Edward put “Self Defense” down as the cause. “And may I ask why there’s so much glitter?” he asked, his voice wavering.

“Oh, it just kind of seems to appear on me at random times. Darky said it has something to do with my ‘aura’ or whatever.”

Edward clicked his pen. It took all of his self control not to run out of the room. “Right,” he said. “I’ll get you cleaned up and bandaged, then.”

For the most part, the process was blissfully silent--though Wilford did giggle while Edward wiped the blood off his skin. For someone who had just committed murder, he seemed to be having boatloads of fun. Now Edward was beginning to understand what Dark meant when he said that his patients were going to be a bit ‘beyond what you normally see.’ If it weren’t for the look Dark had given him the day he arrived, he probably would have called the police by now.

“Normally I would bug Dark about stuff like this,” Wilford said, “but he said that since we have a doctor now, I have to come to you so he can focus on work.” He crossed his arms, and wore a pout on his face.

Edward chuckled, though it was stiff and forced. Out of all of the people he had seen thus far, Wilford was the only one who showed no fear towards Dark. In fact, he seemed to be the only one Dark could tolerate talking to. The reason why was unbeknownst to Edward. They were as opposite as night and day. Maybe there was something he didn’t know.  

“The blade avoided any major tendons,” Edward said, “so it should recover nicely as long as you take care of it. Come back in three days for me to change your bandages, and try not to kill anyone again.”

“I can’t promise that.” Wilford stood up. Before Edward could continue, he was on his way out the door. “Thank you, doc!”

With that, the door closed, forcing Edward to stare at the hole in the wall as he contemplated his entire existence.

If this was considered ‘normal’ in Markiplier Manor, what was everyone else like?


	2. Give Me A Hand?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can a robot really be injured, or just broken?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this came out a lot later than i would have hoped for, but it's better late than never, right?

By the time Edward got his next patient, the hole in the wall had been filled and painted over. There was still a faint outline where it once was, which would irk Edward until the day he died. When he tried to fill out paperwork, his eyes would wander towards it. It was like an elephant in the room that he could never ignore. He decided that as long as his next patient did not break anything, he would be fine.

That was before his next patient came in that Wednesday afternoon.

Edward took a moment to eye Bing. Sure, he had dealt with aliens before, but those were alive. He had never worked on a robot. The android had glowing yellow eyes, though one of them had gone dark. A scrape on his cheek revealed silver plating. The most gruesome part of it, though, was the dismembered arm he was holding. Multicolored wires sprouted from his shoulder, while his right arm itself was limp in his remaining hand.

Edward stared at the arm with wide eyes and his brow furrowed. Despite no blood, the scene still made him sick to his stomach. He swallowed hard.

“Well, Bing,” he said, his grasp on his clipboard tightening, “can you explain to me what happened?”

Bing shrugged, though it looked weird without his right arm. “I was skateboarding with Chase,” he said. “Do you know Chase? He’s one of the Septiceyes. Super cool dude. He has his sick Youtube channel called--”

“That’s not important.” Edward huffed a sigh. “Just tell me how you got injured.” He hesitated on the last word. Could a robot really get injured, or just broken?

A light red rose to one of Bing’s cheeks and the metal where skin once was had begun to radiate warmth. “I was doing tricks on my board,” he said, “and I wanted to impress Chase, so I was like ‘hey I’m going to pull off these three tricks in a row then act like I didn’t even try and it will be super cool.’ Turns out everything that goes up must come down. Before I knew it, my pain sensors were going off and Chase was screaming.” He frowned. “I broke my fave board, too.”

Edward wrote “Accident” as the cause, then added, “/trying too hard to be cool.”

“I’m not sure how to go about treatment,” he said. “I’ve never worked on a robot before.” His eyes were still fixated on the arm, which he was sure would appear in his nightmares.

“Uh, about that,” Bing said, rubbing the back of his neck with his remaining hand, “I actually just came here to wait for Google to find me.”

Speak of the devil, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Edward called.

Google stepped into the doctor’s office. It was the first time Edward had gotten the chance to get a good look at him since he moved in. Google stood tall with a stoic expression. The ‘G’ on his shirt had a faint white glow. He glared at Bing, who had a cheeky but nervous grin.

“Googs!” he said, his voice wavering.

Google closed his eyes for a moment. “Bing,” he said, then opened them.

“How you doin’ dude?”

Google ignored the question. “You can’t keep doing this.”

Bing’s expression fell. Edward watched, pursing his lips.

“I know,” Bing said.

Google’s face formed into a scowl. “You tore your synthetic skin again!” he said, pacing towards Bing. “I told you before. Enough damage to the skin will harm the regenerative molecules and render it unable to grow back. When that happens, you will have to get all of your skin replaced, which costs approximately $26,000. As I run our financials, I know for a fact that we do not have the budget to deal with your ‘accidents.’”

That was how that worked? Edward had once complained about the fragility of the human body. If being human meant he didn’t have to get a new skin each time he got injured, though, he was fine with his current state of being.

Bing gave Google a sad smile. “I get it, bro,” he said. “'m sorry.” He was looking at the ground with a glazed expression. It was as if he was expecting a deeper blow.

Google scoffed. “Apologizing so often only trivializes the act and makes apologizes that matter carry less weight. Besides, it does nothing to help the situation progress. Save your battery power.”

Bing’s smile widened in response. He held his dismembered arm towards Google. “Give me a hand?”

Edward stifled a laugh under his breath. Google rolled his eyes, but took the arm from Bing regardless. Somehow, Google always seemed to have repair tools on him. This must have been a common occurrence. All it took was to reconnect the wires and reseal the skin. Watching filled Edward with a mix of fascination and disgust.

Bing tested his fingers by wiggling them. His expression lit up when he saw they were working properly again. Google examined his work for a second before looking back to Bing’s face. He hit the side of Bing’s head a few times, and the android’s black eye sparked back to life.

“Is that better?” Google asked, to which Bing hummed in response. Google nodded, then turned to Edward. “Put a bandage over his cheek. The skin will grow back as long as he does not mess with it.” He looked back at Bing. “No more stunts. I mean it. Your internal hardware could have been damaged and I do _not_ want to have to open you.”

“Kinky,” Bing muttered under his breath.

With that, Google left the office, and it was Edward’s turn to do his job. Bandaging Bing’s cheek took little time or effort. Bing wore a solemn expression on his face.

“Do you think Chase thinks I’m stupid?” Bing asked.

Edward gave a soft smile. “No,” he said. “I think you’re both idiots.”

Bing must have viewed that as a good thing, because he grinned. “Thanks for the help, doc,” he said, hopping off the bed to his feet. “Oh, have you seen my vape pen?”

Oh lord. He really was _that_ person. Edward was too sober to be dealing with this.

“No, I have not,” he said.

“Maybe I lost it at the skate park.” Instead of muttering a swear under his breath, a beep came out of Bing’s mouth. “Thanks anyway, dude.”

Bing leaving the office brought relief through Edward’s lungs. He plopped back down in his desk chair. Something about what had just happened was off. He couldn’t put his finger on what, though. Maybe it was the humanity he saw in Bing’s emotions, despite him being a robot; or it was the fact that robots could vape. Edward shook his head. There was a mountain of paperwork in front of him aching to be done. He had no time to ponder over the past.

Then again, why did he have so much paperwork to do? What was it all for?


End file.
